


No More Left to Give

by A_Dozen_Lemmings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Content Warning: The Big Sad, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Dozen_Lemmings/pseuds/A_Dozen_Lemmings
Summary: When the tears have been shed and the fury’s kindled. There’s no kindness left in them.Those gentle men, Those nervous men, Those men who loved so fiercely like the sun.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 8





	No More Left to Give

I.

Harry Potter Hands in his retirement on October the 17 of the year 2034. He does not smile. He does not laugh.

What he does is stalk down the halls of Ministry power. What he does is stare, straight ahead, at a point somewhere in the far off distance.

Teddy Lupin strides somewhat behind him. Hair lank and tears staining his cheeks. But his eyes, 

“Oh God above, his eyes.” mutters the secretary when she recounts how he stands between her and the soon to be former Head Auror while The Chosen One prowls through the Minister for Magic’s door

A wolf’s eyes.

II.

“So.” Whispers Charlie, a frown slashing across his normally smiling face. “We’re doing this then?”

“Aye.” 

“Ve are.” George and Fluer, both staggering as he tries to pass her the third bottle of fire whiskey.

“Zey are going to regret ze day zey, zey… She chokes back a sob with more whiskey. George… heaves… like he is only just barely keeping his own stomach.

Bill looks up from beside them. Scars shining like silver in the moonlight. His Ears tilted toward the house where he hears His sister. Hears every howling scream and every wailing cry. Blades of grass flashing into incandescent gas, a rich black smoke, or violet glass, with every vocalisation.

III.

“For Harry?”

“Yeah. Could you try to catch him? He should be leaving the Minister’s Office in Just a few minutes and I think He requested these case files late last night.”

The secretary smiles at him. There’s a touch of pity in it. But he can’t really find it in him to be offended. He imagines the whole great fucking mass of them feels pretty well pitiable right now.

“Thank you, Michelle.” Says Percy, dismissing her with a poor attempt at a polite smile.

  
  


IV.

“Thank you, Michelle.” Says Head Auror Potter with eyes like jade chips on a face cut from stone. Lit by the grate of the Floo she had only just caught him moments from entering.

“It… It’s no… I… I’m so, so Sorry Mr Potter!” And suddenly she’s hugging him and Good god she’s blubbering all over him 

_ “M’Sorrym’sorrym’sorry” _

He pushes her back, though not roughly, and looks at her. Through her, she can’t help but think if only for just a moment. Then for a flash his eyes soften.

“Oh Michelle. You at least, do not have anything to apologize for. But. Thank you.”

He steps away.

“With me Ted we’re going to the Burrow.




‘Please stop crying’

James... sits. It’s all he’s done for days. Mum is breaking. Dad  _ is  _ Broken

‘Please don’t cry’

James… sits.

‘Please stop crying.’

“James!” He startles. “Huh! Wha- Da! When?”

“James, I need the cloak son. Where-?”

And James is up and all but pushing the heirloom at his father. Shoving it away.

“Please,-”  _ don’t cry _ . “Look after your mum, for a bit longer Son, okay?

“Okay.” He whispers

‘Please stop crying.’

_ His mum isn’t supposed to cry. _

  
  
  


VI.

Albus paces at the bottom of the hill. Scorpius just a little further up. Draco looks around himself. He remembers that Bellatrix stood just over there when The Dark Lord ‘Welcomed’ him back to the fold.

‘Here he is again. Decades older, apparently not at all wiser, about to wage war over blood ‘.

He looks down on his boys. Men grown, but his, all the same.

‘Odd how time cycles in on itself.

Once more to invade the sanctity of one of British Magic’s greatest and oldest traditions.’

“Potter.” He murmurs when he hears the faint pop as he takes in the view of Hogwarts. Almost forty years and it still awes him. Just a bit.

“Malfoy.” His lips quirk as Harry Potter moves to stand beside him. Just for a moment. But there is nothing to smile about really.

‘At The behest of a madman.’

Albus strides up to them, long and sure. Scorpius beside him. Equal. 

“What a pair we make. Eh Potter?”

“Hm.”

‘At least this madman appreciates the view and understands what he’s lost’

“For better or worse, you’re family now. And no matter our past affiliations that means something to all of us.”

VII.

“He is about to do something monumentally stupid, Ronald!”

“Well shit. No, I hadn’t figured! But We’ll be bloody well helping him do it!

Hermione taps her hand rapidly on the tabletop. A nervous habit. Honestly he thought she’d broken it years ago. With an explosive sigh she seems to throw herself up and away from the table.

“Of course we are! Come on, He’s probably to Hogwarts by now.”

VIII.

She and Ron materialize only strides behind Harry and Malfoy

“Weasley, Weasley”

“Malfoy.”

They enmesh into the strange procession that passes the gates without fanfare.

“Thank you,” they murmur to Neville Longbottom all in turn as he closes the Gate behind them.

“I am so, so sorry for this Neville!”

She murmurs urgently. Desperately. His own smile is jagged, his eyes glassy.

“Been a while since I heard that. Make it look good, eh? I can take a guess what you’re here for and I think you’ll need me in place here to keep an eye on how Britain reacts when they find out.”

He casts a glance over the grounds. Albus Dumbledore’s Tomb shining white in the moonlight.

“It Wasn’t right!” He bursts out. 

“They deserved Better!” He blurts. “House Potter has the full support of House Longbottom until debts are paid and all blood has been shed!”

She hears the breath of both Ron and Malfoy, hitch and wheeze.

“Longbottom!”

“Neville!”

Harry only turns. Lopes toward Neville. Looks into his face.

“Thank you Neville. You… I don’t think any of us has ever deserved you. You should return to your students. This next bit is… Taboo.

  
  


IX.

“Wha’- Shouts Hagrid drunkenly. Wha’ The hell are ye doin’ over there!” He’s been drunk for three days now

“Don’ yer touch it! Tha’ Was a Great man, Tha’ was!”

“Hagrid? Please, Quietly!? I cannot have the whole bloody school waking up.” 

“Harry? But why!?”

“I came to retrieve something Hagrid. Something I left here at the end.”

“Yer here for the wand then.”

“I… Yes.”

“Hm, well, if anyone has a need for it, I suppose it’s you Harry. I’m with ya’.”

“I… Thank you Hagrid.”

X.

He can be respectful about it this time, at least. Levitating the slab of marble rather than breaking it apart as Voldemort had. There, nestled in the bones of his greatest mentor’s hands.

15 inches of Elder wood and a core of Thestral tail hair.

Whole.

He takes a shuddering breath as he takes it from Dumbledore’s hands. He chose this path. He would have to walk it.

He feels the warmth of recognition. Not only of himself but that cloak that whispers around his shoulders.

Another breath. Grief and rage warring inside him.

“Let’s go. One more Stop.

They move briskly into a nondescript clearing in an unassuming stretch of the forbidden forest this strange column he’s made around himself.

He can hear it. Calling to him and whispering to him, before he so much as catches a glimpse of the clearing where he died.

When he reaches it, it is shockingly sudden.

Whispers, echoing in the vaults of his mind.

He kneels down. Almost as if in prayer. His friends and family come to a stop behind him while he scrabbles at almost forty years of leaf litter.

And then it’s cupped in his hands. Thrumming in recognition and greeting.

His breathing is ragged.

His pulse is pounding.

  
  


“Lily flower?” he whispers, or, begs.

  
  


“Dad? No! Nononono! Daddy no! Please no! Let it go! Let me go! Don’t do this to yourself! Please!”

And she runs to him, all the placidity of the dead, that he had expected, nowhere to be found. Incorporeal hands vainly grabbing for the cloak, the wand or the stone. 

Desperately. 

As though  _ She _ needs to save  _ him. _

“I had to see you and your Mum will need to as well. Just once, Lily. Just once and then no more I promise. But I need… There are… We need justice for this.

She shakes her head. Eyes glistening, even translucent as they are.

“You’ll be hunted daddy.”

“Sometimes,” he croaks out, his voice barely more than a wheezed gasp. “Sometimes, Lily Flower, all we have are bad choices and broken hearts.

“They were going to kill... all of you. Lysander interrupted the curse that Antonius was casting.

She gasps Eyes widening “They’re okay!? If they're not… here? Lyra’s Okay!?”

“They are! They are, Lyra’s a pretty name.” Harry shakes his head. He’ll have to leave soon or he never will.

Lysander was hurt. But he’s recovering well. He’ll be woken up in a day or so-

  
  
  
  
  


Lily Luna Scamander September 1, 2008 - September 5, 2034

Mother, Healer, 

Wife, Daughter, Sister, 

Beloved of the Light,

Rest in Peace.


End file.
